Page 29 of Ruthless

The odd hours, the expensive townhouse, the team of men always ready and willing to do his bidding without question, the violence and lies… None of that even gets into how comfortable he is with breaking the law, or the fact that he fuckingkidnappedme.

Dante’s mafia ties are probably the reason those men broke into my house and threatened Jeremy and me in the first place.

Shit, shit, shit.

I dig my nails into my palms viciously enough to cut skin, and the pain drags me back to myself mid-spiral. “Why the hell did you bring me here?”

Dante ignores my question, his eyes flashing with annoyance. I’ve officially pushed him too far and can sense him shutting down on me from less than a foot away. In only amatter of seconds, he’ll grab me again and force me into some other ritual humiliation in front of more of hismafia friends.

A fresh burst of panic floods my system. No. I won’t let him. I want no part in any of this. Before he can snatch me back, I round the corner and rush past the bar. I know I won’t get far, but it’s the principal of the matter. What I learned here tonight changes everything I thought I knew about the man I once loved.

Dante is dangerous. Powerful. More so than I ever could have fathomed. Younger, I was too scared to put a name to it, but I can no longer deny the truth.

Especially now that I know a greater authority looms over him and hisCouncil soldiers.

I’m halfway across the room, weaving through the throngs of dancing bodies, people both young and old, when an all too familiar song begins to play.

I freeze in my tracks. “Die With A Smile” by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga. Our song. The song we used to dance to in the apartment, late at night, when neither one of us wanted him to leave just yet and touching one another felt like instinct. The soft tune seems so out of place in the edgy sophistication of the club that several people glance around in confusion.

I close my eyes, unsurprised when Dante’s heat seeps into my back. An arm snakes around my waist, and a large hand cups my face. His warm breath contains hints of chocolate and whiskey as he turns me slowly and teases my lips with his own.

The melody and his gentle seduction flay open my chest. Tears rim my eyes, spilling over before I can stop them, and a sob catches in my throat.

“Why are you doing this?”

When he parts my lips for the briefest taste, his tongue is salty with my tears. “You ruined every memory I had of youwhen you betrayed me.” He maneuvers me easily, pulling his body flush against my own. “I’m going to return the favor.”

I shake my head, but he continues talking, his voice low and cruel. “Do you remember our first date? You wore that blue dress that matched your eyes, and I spent the entire time thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you.” He nuzzles the curve of my neck. “You sat across from me with your knees together, squirming in your chair, but I could tell how wet you were. How much you wanted to fuck me too.”

“Shut up.” My voice wobbles.

I cringe at my body’s reaction. Already, my core throbs as my mind replays the moment upstairs over and over again. What if he’d lifted my dress just a bit higher? Showed my aching center off to the rest of the room like some prize? He could have slipped inside of me right then and there, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

I clamp my thighs together. Nothing about that moment should arouse me…and yet.

A shudder ripples through me. With us mashed so tightly together, I’m sure he can feel the desire coursing through me like a drug.

He’s always been able to read my tells, especially in bed.

His knowing chuckle vibrates down my spine. “You want to fuck me right now, don’t you?”

Bastard.

As if I’ll admit that. “No. I don’t?—”

“Don’t lie.” Dante nips my earlobe, and a traitorous, wanton noise emits from low in my throat when he glides a hand between my legs to tease folds already dripping with need. “This ismypussy, for as long as I want it.” He strokes my clit with his thumb, and my hips arch into his hand in desperation even as I mold my back to his chest. “Say it. Tell me how much you want my cock inside your tight little hole.”

He’s so filthy, but I recognize the words as the weapons they’re meant to be. He knows how much his dirty talk turns me on, and he’s trying to break me.

I bite my lower lip to keep the truth from pouring out. Of course I want him inside me. I want him to stuff me full of his familiar ridges and curves and make me whole again. The last person I slept with was Dante, all those years ago. The thought of some other man’s hands on me, erasing Dante’s touch, repulsed me.

“Dante, please.”

I can’t decide if I’m begging him to stop or continue, but my fraying control may snap at any moment.

His fingers dip inside me and stroke my inner walls, finding that sweet spot so quickly that I nearly come on the spot. My legs widen of their own accord, and I rock into his palm, seeking more friction.

“There she is.” He croons in a cruel, sadistic way. “My little slut.”